---------------
GREAT song choices! I felt a little mushy, actually, with "awwww" at the thought of Thog doing a sweet sort of ballet to "Maybe I'm Amazed." And "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" is one of my all-time fave Beatles tunes! Hilarious!

*queuing up with Slackbot to pay money for hammer-smackdown tickets*

And is Sam assuming his son will be taking over the manager's job in one season? *trying to picture Sam even shopping at New Seasons* Er...he spends a lot of time in the bran aisle, I'm guessing...
----------------

"Where's the remote control? I thought I left it on my desk. Do you know where it is ?"​

​

"Maybe it's next to the television," said Rowlf, not bothering to lift his eyes off the computer in front of him, as he furiously tapped his fingers against the keyboard.​

​

Sam turned on the television, scrolling up the channels until he reached CSPAN-3. "Well, I don't know how the remote got there, Rowlf, perhaps somehow touched it who shouldn't have."​

​

"You got me, Sam."​

​

"Now I have to watch James K. Polk Revisited, so please try to keep things at a low volume."​

​

Sam pulled out his legal pad and attentively sat in front of the panel discussion, writing notes and nodding in assent when one of the fossilized historians made a point he agreed with. Rowlf still furiously typed on his computer, only pausing sporadically to look up and contemplate his train of thought.​

​

The incessant typing began to grate on Sam's nerves. "Do you mind? I am trying to enrich myself, but you are seemingly trying to pollute the room with as much noise as possible."​

​

"Sorry, Sam but I really-"​

​

"I accept your apology."​

​

Rowlf rolled his eyes and went back to work as Sam continued his enraptured viewing, but soon the typing resumed. Sam's patience was extremely thin at this point, and he wheeled around towards Rowlf again.​

​

"Do you mind! I don't know why you continue to rail against this discussion, unless you a staunch member of the Whig party and oppose the policies of the late President Polk, but your inane noise is interfering with me. Please take your business elsewhere so I can focus on something truly worthwhile."​

​

Rowlf sighed. "I'm sorry, Sam, but this is the quietest room available for me to work in and I need to finish this plan before Monday afternoon."​

​

"Plan? What plan? Did someone get arrested again?"​

​

"A lesson plan."​

​

"Lesson plan?" Sam was incredulous.​

​

"Yes, a lesson plan. Remember the music program we started last year at the School for the Gifted and Talented Monsters?"​

​

"What about it? Did one of those young punky monsters get in trouble again? I always knew they were up to no good over there, but you guys wouldn't listen."​

​

"No one's in trouble. The music teacher at the after-school program is having a child, and when her replacement fell through, they asked me to step in."​

​

"Really? What happened to the replacement?"​

​

"She lost her voice cheering at a Yanni concert. Seems he really works those crowds into a frenzy."​

​

"My goodness! It's good that we didn't have one of those wild groupie women so close to the impressionable minds of the young! But Rowlf, are you qualified for this sort of job? They need an educated mind to help them out."​

​

Rowlf slid off his seat, and shuffled through some boxes in his closet, finally pulling out a small, carefully preserved envelope, giving it to Sam.​

​

Sam slowly pulled out the contents, which turned out to be an ornately printed paper, reading:​

​

The regents of the ​

University of Tennessee​

have conferred upon​

Rowlf T. Dog​

a Bachelor's Degree in Early Childhood Education​

and a Master's Degree in Music​

given at Knoxville​

on the tenth of May,​

on the year nineteen hundred and seventy five.​

​

"I had some lean years before I met up with Kermit, and I didn't know if I could make it with music. I knew my heart was with the piano, but I needed to have a back-up plan. Tickling the ivories and howling the blues at the diner didn't always pay the bills. I may be a dog, but I didn't want to have to beg for a living."​

​

"Did you ever teach?"​

​

"I was looking for a job when I met up with Kermit, and you know what happened after that."​

​

"But still, do you think you can teach those rowdy children?"​

​

"I'll do my best, plus I won't be the only person there. They have classroom aids, and plus I might call in for some help. You said Hillary was a teaching student, right? I'm sure she'd be willing to help."​

Rowlf gave a knowing smile. "Sam, I will get an answer from her directly. You are not Hillary last time I checked. Your voice is too deep, plus I've never seen you in a skirt." He chuckled to himself as he left the room.​

​

Sam shook his head. It was enough to have his children living under the same roof as the Muppets, but to have one of them work with them? It might set Hillary down the wrong track again. He vowed to not let this happen.​

​

*******​

"All right guys! Great day today at the store! Time for our post-shift meeting."​

​

The Four Seasons Market had just closed for the day, and only needed to be swept up before everyone could leave. However, owner and omnipresent manager Alexander found it important to see how his employees were after every shift. Morale was kept at a high at the Four Seasons Market, even if the employees didn't really want to be happy.​

​

Today's employees were a sleepy-eyed ostrich, a young and rather angry ram, and the Eagle twins. Alexander had covered meeting with the rest of the employees earlier.​

​

"How was today, guys? Let's hear it- don't hold back on my account."​

​

The ram launched into a diatribe, letting out his words in barely controlled blurts.​

​

"I don't know who those people were that came in the party bus today, but they were terrible! Terrible! Knocking over displays, jumping onto shelves, trying to cook the food in front of me! They belonged in a zoo, not this store."​

​

"Oh, those people! They're the Muppets! You don't watch television?"​

​

"Television is the opiate of the masses."​

​

"Some people like opiates! But they weren't all bad. They bought a lot of deli meats, which brought in a lot of money."​

​

The ram wasn't done. "This one guy, he was dressed in some sort of chef suit, he didn't like how thin I cut his salami, so he came back around and tried to seize control of the slicer. I had to fend him off by smacking him in the back of the head with a slab of Muenster cheese."​

​

"But he bought three pounds of salami! We can't be beating up our special customers, now can we?"​

"Animal kept jumping on top of the display every time I set it back up. We went back and forth fourteen different times before Floyd and Janice distracted him with a box of Toasted Almond bars."​

​

"Well, did you get the display stocked?"​

​

Andrew blushed. "Animal took the display with him when he left. I think Hillary charged Floyd 12 dollars for it."​

​

"Twelve-fifty to be exact."​

​

"Look at that! Extra profit margin! Way to make the best out of a bad situation!"​

​

The ram erupted again in a huff of fury. "And don't get me started about what happened when you had me man the bakery. This big old monster…I don't know what his name was…Sweetly…Sweetums…whatever…he wanted a bag of iced sugar cookies."​

"He couldn't decide which ones he wanted! He had this little frog on his shoulder, and they went back and forth. 'How about the red one? Gee, the blue one looks good? What about the white icing? Are those flowers on that one? I really like those icing designs, don't you? Did you make those designs? Can I talk to whoever made those designs?' I wanted to knock them over with a bag of flour!"​

​

"Oh that Sweetums! He loves his iced cookies!"​

​

"Arrgh! I'm going out for a smoke!" The ram stomped outside, fuming all the way.​

​

"Gosh, if there was only some way we could harness his anger and turn it into something more positive for our store. Maybe he should be moved to customer service."​

​

Hillary raised her hand. "Alexander, you need to cash a check for the store from Gonzo."​

​

"I'll just bring it to the bank after I'm done here."​

​

"I'm afraid it won't be that easy."​

​

"What do you mean?"​

​

Hillary moved to her checkout line, and pulled out a watermelon that had been sitting on her seat.​

​

"See, he was out of checks, so he wrote the check on the watermelon. Evidently it's legal tender if you use the right check number."​

​

Sure enough, in neat cursive, the watermelon read "Forty-five dollars and 23/100 cents, payable to Four Seasons Market, endorsed by Gonzo The Great, check number 1678."​

​

"Gosh, that Gonzo! Such a trickster! This must have been one of his art pieces."​

​

"He wants the watermelon back when he's done, so he can use it in his all-fruit reproduction of the finale of Thoroughly Modern Millie. Evidently that watermelon just screams Millie."​

​

"I love the theatre!"​

​

Any further discussion of the theatre or preforming watermelons was interrupted by audible snoring from the ostrich.​

​

"Ferdinand! Ferdinand! Wakey-wakey!"​

​

He snapped awake. "Wha? Huh? Am I still on break? Where are all those chickens who were here earlier?"​

​

"You passed out there for a second. I guess you worked too hard today! "​

​

"Okay, thanks? Can I go back on break now?"​

​

"Sure!"​

​

Ferdinand laid out on one of the checkouts and fell asleep, causing much confusion.​

​

"What is he doing?" asked Andrew.​

​

"He lives here. He has such trouble staying awake sometimes that I just decided he would do a better job if he combined where he worked and lived, so that way he wouldn't fall asleep while driving anymore. That caused a bit of a traffic problem last summer."​

​

"He fell asleep at the wheel?" yelled Hillary. "That's awful! A car could do real damage in that case."​

​

"He drove a Vespa, so it wouldn't have been that bad. They're very light-weight."​

​

"How does that make a difference?"​

​

Before Alexander could answer, the ram barged back into the store, in the middle of a rant that had started outside.​

​

"…and that pig! I asked her if she wanted the low-sodium macaroni salad, and she just about wrung my neck! The nerve! I swear, if these people are famous like you say, then there is no hope for television! It's just a vast wasteland! Thank goodness I stuck with my books! Books are the only real thing in this world today!"​

​

Andrew leaned over to Hillary while Alexander showed the ram their newest selection of magazines in hopes that one of them would be to his liking.​

​

"You'd think Dad wouldn't have let us work here if it was so strange."​

​

"Either that or the Muppet Theater is even crazier than this."​

​

********************​

Coming up in Chapter Eight: Dress rehearsals in the Muppet Theater, and Robin needs help with his homework.​

Wait... The ram smokes cigarettes? And he complains about opiates rotting other people's minds? Sheesh, there's always a hypocrit out there. Maybe he needs to get some anger management classes for that boiling Scottish temper of his.

Nice touch with Rowlf's credentials. Good reference to his roots as how he started with Kermit.

*Laughs at how the Muppets attacked the Four Seasons.
Yes, a check drawn up on a watermelon's legit, so long as it can be cashed with the proper checki and checking account numbers. Heck, you can write a check on anything and it's still legit if it has that info.

I always knew Rowlf had a degree of some sort. Loved the interactions between the angry ram and the annoyingly chipper Alexander. Sam's probably not gonna be pleased when he realizes the Muppets are regular customers...

Oh, I really like this story! You write the muppets so well, including plenty of banter and random sillyness remoniscent of a certain Miss Lisa, (Together Again), who as you may or may not know, earned the title queen of fanfiction.
There's much to say, which I'm a bit tired to be specific about right now, but here's an observation from the very beginning of the story. At first I wondered at the easy friendship between Sam and Rowlf, as Sam usually seems to have some level of disdain for all of them. Then I figured, well, he and Kermit seemed to be chatting nicely in the Sam's family clip, and of all of them, Kermit and Rowlf are probably the 2 most reserved and dignified muppets on the show, so if anyone, Sam would be closest to them.

Thank you for the kind words! As for Sam and Rowlf, I gave them a friendship because Rowlf is the lowest-key of the main gang of Muppets, so I felt he would best tolerate Sam's blustery ways. He's not going to always come out with a crack at his expense, but most of the time he's just going to smile and nod.

At seven o'clock every Monday through Friday at the Muppet Boarding House, activity ceased to a virtual halt. Instruments were put down, food was left in the kitchen, and cannons were kept in the garage. This was Jeopardy time, a time where everyone's intellect and pride was on the line. Correct answers were applauded; incorrect answers were jeered. Money sometimes changed hands or paws, while household chores were often on the line during Final Jeopardy. In short, Jeopardy was serious business.​

​

However, there was one member of the boarding house who did not find that half-hour to be as enjoyable as the others, because his bedtime was much earlier than everyone else's. Robin had to be in bed by 8:30, so oftentimes Jeopardy time was homework time.​

​

He sat off to the side of the chaos in the living room on a small desk, which was normally reserved for paying bills and keeping track of personal appointments. He was too small for the chair, so sitting right on the desk avoided having to use a booster seat or anything embarrassing of the nature.​

​

Tonight's assignment was math, fractions to be specific. Robin didn't mind fractions; however, these fractions were a little different. Something called 'mixed numbers', so there were things like "7/5" and "9/3". How could you have seven fifths? You couldn't have any more than five fifths. It was frustrating to him.​

​

Meanwhile, answers and questions flew furiously.​

​

"This author wrote several law themed best-sellers, and they were all runaway successes."​

​

"William Shakespeare!" shouted Gonzo.​

​

"Really, Gonzo?" questioned Piggy.​

​

"John Grisham!," blurted out Rizzo. "That's three for me!"​

​

"I figure if I keep saying Shakespeare whenever they talk about writing I'll be right one of these days," explained Gonzo to an aghast Piggy.​

​

Robin was more interested in finishing his homework.​

​

"Ugh! This is so hard."​

​

Hillary's head perked up at Robin's complaint. She wasn't trying to participate in the question and answer fray, it was just too loud and frenzied for her voice to be heard. Despite the noise, something else had crossed her ears, perhaps because it was so non-frenzied. She scanned the room and caught Robin on the desk, puzzling over his math. She crept off the sofa and made her way to the desk.​

​

"Hey, Robin. How's it going?"​

​

He put down his pencil and looked up. "Not too well. This homework is hard."​

​

"What is it?"​

​

"Simplifying mixed numbers."​

​

"That's not too bad."​

​

"Well, it is to me!"​

​

Hillary sat in the seat for "normal"-sized people and leaned over the paper. "Can I borrow this?"​

​

Robin nodded.​

​

She flipped the paper over and drew a circle.​

​

"Can you divide this into thirds for me?"​

​

Robin quickly filled in the proper lines. ​

​

"Now color in three thirds for me."​

​

"You mean a whole?"​

​

"Yes."​

​

Robin colored everything in, then gave the pencil back to Hillary, who drew another circle.​

​

"Divide this into thirds and color in two of them."​

​

"See, you have one whole and two-thirds, right?"​

​

"Yes." Robin seemed fairly skeptical, but Hillary's education classes had taught her to stay patient and let the lessons work themselves out. Sometimes it took a little while for the light bulb to turn on.​

​

"Now you said a whole was three thirds, right?"​

​

"Yes."​

​

"So if you have three thirds and two thirds, that…"​

​

"…is five-thirds! Five thirds!"​

​

Robin gave Hillary a hug, to the best of his abilities. "I think I get it now, I just need to subtract the whole, and then I can have a regular fraction left over."​

​

"Yes! Now try problem two, and I'll be back after I get myself a drink from the kitchen."​

​

By this point, Jeopardy had ended, so the crowd was beginning to disperse. Dr. Teeth had won Final Jeopardy (the category was Synthesizers), so he eagerly tallied up all the chores and favors he won.​

​

"So Gonzo, you have to wash my car. I want to you make sure that chrome gleams in the sunlight just like my tooth, you dig? And Link, you owe me some breakfast tomorrow. I like my waffles with plenty o'chocolate chips."​

​

"But I can't cook!"​

​

"Should have pondered that before you bet against the good doctor!"​

​

Hillary stopped back from the kitchen and visited Robin, who had moved on to problem four by now.​

​

"Look, Hillary! I'm doing really good now. These fractions are so much easier now that you showed me how to solve them."​

​

"That's great! I'm glad I was able to help you."​

​

Rowlf happened to notice their conversation and ambled by. "How's it going?"​

​

"Hillary showed me how to solve these mixed numbers problems! Now I'm definitely going to finish my homework on time! She's such a big help."​

​

A light bulb went off in Rowlf's head. "So, Hillary, you studied education in Virginia, right?"​

​

"Yes, that was my major before I came here."​

​

"Say, you know how I'm working at the after school program at the Institute for the Gifted and Talented Monster?"​

​

"Yes, I heard you talking about it with Scooter yesterday."​

​

"Well, we could use a helping hand. Do you want to come in a couple days a week?"​

​

"Sure. I'd love to."​

​

"Thanks! Let's shake on it."​

​

While Hillary and Rowlf were shaking hands, Sam's eye wandered from the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune to his daughter, and he briskly walked over to the desk.​

​

"Hello, Hillary. Hello, Rowlf. Hello, Robin."​

​

"Hi, Sam. How are you?" questioned Rowlf.​

​

"I'm good. Just had a brisk intellectual exercise with Jeopardy. It's too bad they didn't have more historical questions. I'm afraid they might be watering down the show."​

​

"I was talking to Hillary, and she said she wanted to volunteer at the after-school program."​

​

"A couple times a week, Dad. It would really help me keep up on my teaching skills."​

​

Sam seemed flustered. "But-but are you sure you'll have time at the grocery store? They need you there."​

​

"They only put me on in the morning shift, so I have afternoons free."​

​

"But-don't you want to earn more money. I'm sure the manager would put you on full-time if you wanted."​

​

Rowlf stepped in. "Perhaps there's some employee money in the coffers for Hillary."​

​

"Thanks!"​

​

Sam wasn't happy; he had worked hard to keep his children as far from full-time interactions with the Muppets this whole time, but now his daughter was going to be working for one of them! Possibly for no money. That was decidedly ungrateful.​

​

"Well, Hillary, you're-you're an adult, but I better not see your work slip at the grocery store, or else I'll have to forbid you from working with those monsters."​

​

"Thank you, Dad," said Hillary with the slightest touch of sarcasm in her voice.​

​

--------------------​

​

The next day, the theater was abuzz with the sound of rehearsals. Paul McCartney had arrived in from London, and was spending the morning with Kermit and Rowlf working out the musical arrangements to his solo numbers, while the rest of the gang went through their paces. Scooter was running things in his usual brisk manner.​

​

"All right everybody! I need Thog on the stage for his ballet in two minutes! Up next is Miss Piggy, then Sweetums."​

​

"I can't go on stage! I don't have Robin! He's at school!"​

​

Scooter scanned the crowd of Muppets, looking for a substitute. "Hmmmm….who's pretty small….Rizzo! Rizzo? Stand in for Robin with Sweetums in this rehearsal."​

​

"What? Me? I gotta sit on his shoulder and sing "Good Day Sunshine"? Not a chance."​

​

"It's just for rehearsal!"​

​

"Rizzo doesn't do cute."​

​

Sweetums then scooped up Rizzo, ending all argument. "Come on, it'll be fun! Maybe if you do good in the rehearsal you can be a backup dancer."​

​

Meanwhile, Piggy was on stage with Dr. Teeth, and neither of them were too happy about the situation. ​

​

"I can't believe this freak has to be the one backing me up when I sing. We're a long way from the days of Christopher Reeve."​

​

The doctor snorted. "And we're a long way from the days of having Debbie Harry sing up here."​

​

"Touche," said Piggy, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just shut up and play, like Rowlf."​

​

Dr. Teeth tickled his fingers across the keyboard, while Piggy started to fire up her pipes.​

​

"and when I go away, ​

I know my heart…can stay…with my love​

it's understood​

​

it's in the hands of my love​

and my love…does it…goooood​

wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-woooooooa​

my love….does it…goooood"​

​

Dr. Teeth begin putting in a little fill after the chorus, something Piggy was not expecting.​

​

"and when…and…Hey! Hey! What are you doing?"​

​

"Just adding a little piece to the song, a little spice, a little flair, a little-"​

​

"Cut it short, you walking thesaurus."​

​

Their repartee continued while Scooter feverishly worked to escort the two of them off the stage. In the orchestra pit, Wayne, Wanda, Nigel and Sam were continuing to argue over their latest direction for the show.​

​

"Look, honey, I don't know why you want to work with anyone else but me! I've got charisma, presence, hair, beauty. What else could you need?"​

​

"But you're not KC. He's got a better voice than you ever had. Plus he still has the Sunshine Band! They're stellar."​

Glad to see that Jeopardy is serious business for other people too; I am the type of person who is delighted when a category is something I know or something I should know and like Gonzo, I'd probably shout out the same answer again and again until I hit something (though my downfall is science)

Ugh, hate math!

But nice to see Robin getting some help from Hillary and that she's moving into what she wants to do.

I had wanted to say that I thought Piggy and Dr. Teeth get along better than that, but then I thought about it and said, 'It's Piggy, on the countdown to a show, and her pianist is a no show' and then nodded, cause I could see those two throwing comments at each other before a show. And it does have Sir Paul, so I concede to that.

------------
I can absolutely picture a houseful of Muppets having a vicious betting pool over 'Jeopardy'. (Why have we not yet had an all-Muppet edition? Someone call Alex Trebek and Bland & Blander! Discrimination!)

Very sweet of Hillary to help Robin. We need more patient educators! And I'm betting her stint at the gifted monster school will bring about wonderful change...well, wonderful to everyone but Sam, probably...